


What I Could Do (If It Was Just Me And You)

by ProneToRelapse



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Alternative Universe - Human, Babysitter Connor, Barebacking, College Student Connor, Humor, M/M, Nines is a snarky asshole and I love him, Pining, Praise Kink, RK Brothers, Romance, Single Dad Hank
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-07-13
Packaged: 2019-06-09 21:32:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,926
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15276609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProneToRelapse/pseuds/ProneToRelapse
Summary: Hank has a huge crush on Cole's babysitter. It's all Gavin's fault.





	What I Could Do (If It Was Just Me And You)

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 한국어 available: [What I Could Do (If It Was Just Me And You) (Korean Translation)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15505422) by [lucadris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucadris/pseuds/lucadris)



> i don't know fuck all about american school ages or whatever, but when looking it up it seems like connor should be around 20 if he's in his 2nd year at college? if he started at 18 and is doing a 4 year programme. if we assume his birthday is in august like his activation date is in game.
> 
>  
> 
> ENJOY!

Hank lets his head fall down onto his desk with a loud thud.  

 

“Rough weekend?” Ben calls over, throwing a screwed up ball of paper at his head. It bounces off and rolls away, prompting a snort of amusement from Chris and Gavin.  

 

“You don’t know the  _half_  of it,” Hank grumbles, cheek smushed against the desk surface. His whole body aches. His  _brain_  hurts.  

 

“I’m sure we can guess,” Ben says, throwing a knowing glance at Chris who grins. “Let me guess, he’s tall, skinny, freckled, with eyes like hot chocolate on a winter evening.” 

 

“I told you that in  _confidence,_ ” Hank growls, still not lifting his head. Gavin gives an ugly bark of laughter. “And leave me alone. Stop harassing the elderly. And we took Cole swimming. It was awful.” 

 

“Oh, so tall, skinny, freckled, and wearing nothing but speedos and a smile. Nice.” 

 

 _“Ben!”_  

 

The trio snigger at Hank’s expense, which makes them awful friends and he really does need to get new ones. But he’s set in his ways and they’re the only people that really tolerate him anymore.  

 

Even if they won’t stop mocking his desperate situation.  

 

Winning custody of a child as a single parent is hard. No matter how happy Hank was to have Cole with him always, it isn’t easy to juggle everything that comes with it. Work, bills, keeping food on the table, school. All the shit that comes with parenthood and adulthood in general and Hank just can’t keep up. The child support from his ex helps a little, but  _god_  it’s been a long time since Hank has actually been able to relax.  

 

Cole is never anything short of an angel, though. He’s bright, helpful and kind. He never complains, he doesn’t act spoiled. But that doesn’t stop Hank from wanting to do  _more_. Even if more is just spending some time together over the weekend. He doesn’t want his son to grow up hardly seeing his father. Hank has very few memories of his own father from his childhood. He doesn’t want that for Cole.  

 

“ _You_  are not allowed to laugh at my misery,” Hank says, pointing vaguely in Gavin’s direction. “This is all your fault, and when it blows up in my face, I’m coming for you first.” 

 

“I was trying to help!” Gavin says. “Fuck that noise,  this is why I’m always an asshole. Help someone once and they threaten to hunt you down.” 

 

“It’s not a threat,” Hank mutters darkly. “It’s a promise.” 

 

And sure, maybe for the first time in his life Gavin had actually been helpful. When Hank had been struggling under the weight of everything, trying to find a balance between work and home life, he’d quietly offered a solution to his problem.  

 

The solution came in the form of his tall, slightly intimidating boyfriend, Nines.  

 

Or, more specifically, Nines’ younger brother, Connor.  

 

 _“He’s_ _just_ _started_ _his second year of_ _college,”_ Nines had explained. _“He could use a part time job. He’s very responsible and quite charismatic. I think he’ll be able to help you.”_  

 

 _“What the fuck,”_ Hank had asked, _“kind of name is ‘Nines’?”_  

 

Tall, imposing brother with a stupid name aside, Connor has actually turned out to be a godsend. He was prompt, reliable, and Cole fell in love with him instantly. He was warm and friendly, if a little goofy-looking, but he was kind and approachable and he never seemed to tire of Cole’s endless energy.  

 

His classes seemed to work perfectly with Cole’s schedule. Hank would drop him off at kindergarten, Connor would pick him up after his morning classes finished. He’d take him home, make him lunch, play with him until Hank got home, then make them all dinner and leave for the evening. He took Sumo for walks, he cleaned, all things above and beyond the duty of a babysitter, but he’d waved it off like it wasn’t a problem.  

 

 _“I’m literally living off instant noodles and toast,”_ he’d said with a laugh.  _“So letting me raid your cupboards and fridge is payment enough.”_  

 

And now on weekends when Hank has a case and has to work overtime, Connor is there unfailingly, watching over Cole while doing coursework on his laptop. He’s never more than a single phone call away, and responds instantly whenever Hank texts him.  

 

He’s a miracle. A gift sent from Heaven to make Hank’s life easier.  

 

And therein lies the problem.  

 

Because somewhere along the way, Nines’ dorky brother has gone from goofy college student babysitter, to stunningly attractive  unattainable friend of the family.  

 

“You want me to tell Nines you wanna bang his brother?” Gavin asks. “I’m sure he won’t break your legs. Maybe just your arms?” 

 

“I’m gonna kill you, Reed.” 

 

Gavin cackles, yelling when Hank’s stapler collides with the side of his head. Chris and Ben fall about laughing while he hisses expletives and rubs his temple.  

 

“Hank doesn’t want to bang Connor,” Chris says. “So stop being a shit, Reed.” 

 

“Yeah,” Ben agrees with faux anger. “Stop reducing Hank to a gross old man with a crush on a babysitter.” 

 

“ _Thanks,_ Ben.” 

 

“Anytime. And it’s true, he doesn’t want to bang Connor. He wants to  _loooove_  him.” 

 

“Betrayed,” Hank says, about ten seconds away from crawling under his desk and dying. “I hate all of you.” 

 

“We’re just telling it like it is.” Gavin throws the stapler back. It misses. “We’re not the ones who has the hots for Nines’ baby-brother.” 

 

“Who has the hots for my brother?” 

 

Hank sits up so sharply his vision blacks out and his spine cracks. Nines is standing by the entrance to the bullpen, a paper bag tucked under one arm. 

 

“No one,” Gavin says quickly. “No one said that. Also, heeeyy, babe. What, uh, what’re you doing here?” 

 

“You forgot your lunch,” Nines says, putting the bag down on Gavin’s desk. “And I said I’d meet Connor after his morning classes are finished.” He glances at each of them in turn and tension crackles through the precinct. “Please, don’t let me interrupt. I believe I’ve stumbled into quite an intriguing conversation.” 

 

“Oh, we were just messing around,” Ben says, shrinking a little under the weight of Nines’ stoic gaze. He looks back at Gavin who smiles meekly.  

 

“Love you,” Gavin says.  

 

Nines raises an eyebrow.  

 

“A whole lot.” 

 

The eyebrow inches higher.  

 

“So much. You’re so handsome. Have I ever told you that? Like, all the… tall you’ve got going on. It’s great. A plus.” 

 

 _“Gavin.”_  

 

And Gavin, the traitorous little bitch, crumples like a paper cup.  

 

“Hank does,” he mumbles, deflating. “Hank wants to bang Connor.” 

 

 _“Hey!”_  Hank considers making a break for it. He idly wonders how far he’ll get before Nines absolutely destroys him.  

 

“Oh,” Nines says, shoulders relaxing. “Okay.” 

 

A beat passes before all four officers speak at once.  

 

“ _What_.” 

 

Nines shrugs. “That’s not news to me,” he says. “Sorry, Lieutenant, but you aren’t exactly subtle.” 

 

“If you know, then why am I still alive?” Hank’s genuinely curious. He nearly killed a guy on his little sister’s prom night. If he were Connor’s brother – weird thought – he’d be fighting people off with a baseball bat.  

 

“I think killing you would probably upset Connor,” Nines says, mouth twitching in what Hank’s come to recognise as his version of a shit-eating grin. “And I’d prefer not to do that.” 

 

“ _Ohhhhh_ ,” Gavin breathes, grinning. “Well, shit, Hank, looks like your musty ass actually has a chance.” 

 

“I didn’t say he should go for it,” Nines says pointedly. “He’s still my brother.” 

 

“Nines, c’mon. You’re gonna stand in the way of true love?” 

 

Nines clips him lightly round the back of the head. “Stop being a little shit,” he says, somewhat affectionately. “And don’t give me that look, it was a love tap, I hardly touched you.” He looks at Hank, pale eyes flashing with amusement. “I’ll see you later, Lieutenant. Have a good day.” 

 

“Your boyfriend fucking terrifies me, Reed,” Ben says once Nines is out of ear shot.  

 

“Same,” Reed sighs dreamily.  

 

 

— 

 

 

Hank spends the rest of the day literally in agony. Yes,  _literally_ , Reed, actually fuck off. He’s dreading going home and having to look Connor in the eye now that Nines knows and has probably already told Connor about the old police Lieutenant who has a huge crush on him. 

 

That’s if Connor is actually there and hasn’t immediately done a bunk.   

 

No, of course not. He’d never do that to Cole. He’ll most likely politely tell Hank he’s flattered but not interested, and then Hank will have to find a new babysitter while Cole throws a tantrum about the whole thing.  

 

His head throbs as he pulls up outside the house. As much as he’d like to stay in the car for the rest of eternity, he’s missed Cole and his stomach rumbles for Connor’s cooking.  

 

He hauls ass reluctantly out of the car and slogs up to the door, sighing heavily before he lets himself in. 

 

“DADDY!” Cole comes barrelling through from the living room and Hank stoops to lift him, rubbing his beard over Cole’s cheeks to make him giggle. 

 

“Hey there, kiddo. How was your day?” 

 

“Good! Me an’ Con made macaroni pictures!” 

 

“Yes, and Cole’s was a lot better than mine,” Connor calls from the kitchen. He sound of his voice makes Hank’s heart flutter like a lovesick teenager’s. “I couldn’t seem to stop glueing my hands to the paper.” 

 

“He was real bad at it,” Cole whispers loudly.  

 

“Can I see the pictures?” He puts Cole down and shrugs off his coat and kicking off his shoes before following, taking the bundle of pictures Cole shoves into his hands.  

 

“Oh, wow!” Hank exclaims, looking them over. “Oh, I like this one. It’s…” He glances at Connor who mouths the answer at him with a smile. “Sumo!” 

 

“Yeah!” Cole grins, jumping up and down in place. “Can we put it on the fridge?” 

 

“The  _fridge?_ ” Hank asks, pretending shock. “Hell, no, kiddo. This one’s coming to work with me.” He grins as Cole cheers happily and puts the pictures on the kitchen counter. Connor smiles at him warmly before turning to Cole.  

 

“Alright, Cole, go wash your hands for dinner, okay?”  

 

Cole hurries off to the bathroom while Connor finishes serving up dinner. Hank sits at the table with a groan and without missing a beat Connor places a beer down in front of him.  

 

“You look like you need it,” he says with a wink. 

 

Hank is  _so_  fucked.  

 

When Cole is back and they settle down to eat, Hank is grateful and also partly jealous of the way Cole easily commands all of Connor’s attention. He wonders what it would be like to have Connor’s attention focused solely on him. He doesn’t think he could handle it. Connor applies himself wholly to whatever he does. Whether it be caring for Cole or his coursework or, in some wildly different universe, Hank. He doesn’t think he could take that kind of avid concentration being centred on him.  

 

Nice to daydream about though.  

 

Dinner passes without incident, and Cole goes to bed a lot easier with Connor around. Which soon leaves just the two of them watching tv, Connor tapping idly away on his laptop, while he waits for Nines to come pick him up.  

 

“You seem preoccupied, Hank,” Connor says after a while. Hank watches the television harder. “Is there something on your mind?” 

 

“I’m fine, Connor, don’t you worry about me. Long day, that’s all.” 

 

“Okay. As long as I’ve not done something to upset you.” 

 

Hank glances at him. “You? For real? Connor, I don’t think you’re capable of setting a foot wrong in your life.” 

 

Connor smiles. “My mother would disagree with you.” 

 

Hank doesn’t know much about Connor’s family life, other than the fact that he and Nines were adopted at the age of five and seven respectively by a lady called Amanda Stern. He’s never met her but he’s seen photos. She’s a professor at Connor’s university and she seems like a nice enough person from what Connor has told him of her, if a little stern, if you’ll pardon the pun.  

 

“Well, you seem perfect to me,” Hank says, a little too honestly. He manages to stop himself from verbally cussing himself out for sounding like a heartsick idiot.  

 

“Thank you,” Connor says, flushing a little. And fuck, it looks adorable on him.  

 

“No problem,” Hank mumbles, staring intently at the television.  

 

Connor is quiet for a long moment before closing his laptop. Hank forces himself not to look round as Connor turns in his seat to face him.  

 

“May I speak with you about something personal, Hank?” 

 

Oh,  _fuck._ Here it is. Goddamn it, he’s gonna murder Nines the next time he sees him. Even if the guy looks like he could bench Hank through a wall with one hand, he’s still gonna give it the old college try.  

 

“Sure,” Hank says stiffly instead of jumping out the window like he wants to. “You can talk to me about anything.” 

 

“I appreciate that,” Connor says. “You’ll have to forgive me if I come across a little stilted. This isn’t easy for me to say.” 

 

Hank sighs. “It’s alright, Connor. Whatever Nines told you, I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable. It won’t change anything, but I understand if you don’t feel comfortable babysitting anymore.” 

 

Connor doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t say anything for so long that Hank finally forces himself to turn his head and look at him before he literally just dies of suspense in his seat.  

 

Connor is frowning at him like he’s grown a second nose. “If Nines told me what?” He asks.  

 

“Uhhhhhhh.” Fuck.  _Fuck._ “Nothing?” 

 

“Hank,” Connor says and  _fuck_ , it’s exactly the same tone Nines used to force Reed to ‘fess up. He feels a stab of sympathy for the guy. No wonder he’d crumbled so easy.  

 

“I…” Hank sighs heavily for what feels like the hundredth time today. “Fuck it, Connor, I… I like you. I  _really_  like you. And I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, but Nines knows, I don’t know for how long, but I figured he’d tell you and I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable, that’s the last thing I want because I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re important to Cole and to me and I just really really— I’m gonna stop talking now. “ 

 

Hank clamps his mouth shut. Connor’s eyes, which have gotten wider and wider the more Hank rambled on, are practically the size of dinner plates in his head. It’d be comical if Hank wasn’t on the verge of a panic attack. Or a heart attack. Or both.  

 

“Nines  _knew_?!” Connor exclaims suddenly, helping Hank on the way to that heart attack. “He knew the  _whole_  time and he never  _said_  anything?” 

 

“Uhhh,” Hank says helpfully.  

 

“This  _whole_  entire time he never even  _hinted_ that he knew anything. And there’s me, constantly spilling my guts about how much I like you and he’s just  _sitting_  there and listening and not saying a  _word_?!” 

 

“Maybe he didn’t want things to be awkward,” Hank suggests, unaware of the point that flies right over his head.  

 

“It’s been awkward for  _months_!” Connor says. “I’ve barely been able to  _look_  at you! I’ve been going  _crazy.”_  

 

“Uhh,” Hank says again, brain stalling. “Why?” 

 

Connor takes a deep breath to calm himself. Then another. And another. He breathes slowly and steadily, eyes closed, leaving Hank in a torturous sort of purgatory where he doesn’t know what the fuck is happening.  

 

When he opens his eyes again, his pupils are wide and dark and sends something shivering pleasantly down Hank’s spine.  

 

“I like you, too, Hank,” Connor says softly. “I  _really_  do.” 

 

“Thanks,” Hank says because he’s a fucking idiot without a functioning brain.  

 

“May I kiss you?” Connor asks, voice low and soft.  

 

“Uhh, sure, bring it in,” Hank says because he’s a smooth guy, a regular fucking Don Juan when it comes to flirting. He just about resists the urge to punch himself in the face.  

 

And he’s glad he does because not a moment later Connor is climbing into his lap, straddling Hank’s thighs and arms sliding round his neck.  

 

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” Connor purrs.  

 

“I think I might,” Hank murmurs back, eyes fixed on Connor’s mouth. He goes cross-eyed trying to keep focus on them as Connor leans forward, then gives up and closes them when their lips brush together softly, once, twice, three times, and then as Hank takes a shaky breath, Connor’s there, tongue slipping into his mouth, soft and warm and  _perfect._  

 

His hands slide round Connor’s waist without a conscious thought from him to do so, and Connor’s slender fingers curl softly into the loose strands of hair at the nape of his neck. He always keeps it in that messy ponytail now, ever since Connor told him it looked good all those months ago.  

 

It’s divine, the soft glide of Connor’s tongue against his own, the quiet little hums of contentment that he sighs into Hank’s mouth and that fog his brain. Time ceases to exist and all Hank can focus on is Connor. Connor in his arms, Connor in his lap, Connor’s breath in his lungs.  _Connor Connor Connor._  

 

Then they’re wrenched back to the present by the shrill ring of Connor’s cell phone.  

 

“ _Shit_ ,” Connor hisses as he pulls back and the curse shouldn’t sound that pretty on his tongue. He leans back to snatch the cell off the table and holds it to his ear. He doesn’t move off Hank’s lap.  

 

“Hey, Nines. Oh, right, the lift. Yeah. I’ll be ready in…” He trails off, looking down at Hank.  

 

Oh, this is such a bad idea. But Hank can’t stop the slow smile that stretches across his face. Connor’s eyes widen for a moment before he grins back and the damn thing light up his whole fucking face.  

 

“Actually, don’t worry about it,” Connor says, fingers playing with the hair at the nape of Hank’s neck. He shivers. “I’ll get a lift to class tomorrow. Yeah, I’m sure. Thanks, Nines.” He hangs up and tosses the phone away.  

 

“Are you su—“ Hank starts, uncertain now the reality is properly sinking in, but Connor stops him with a hand over his mouth.  

 

“Hank,” Connor says seriously, though his mouth twitches with a hidden smile. “Take me to bed, please.” 

 

Hank would very much like to do that. He will, do that. But he wants to have a bit of fun first.  

 

He licks over Connor’s palm, causing him to snatch his hand back with a mildly disgusted laugh. Once caught off guard, Hank surges to his feet, throwing Connor over his shoulder.  

 

“Hank!” Connor laughs. “Put me down!” 

 

“Nope,” Hank says, heading for his room. “And keep it down, alright? If you wake Cole we’re gonna have a problem.” 

 

“Got it,” Connor says, dangling down his back and trying not to laugh too loudly. “This is so romantic.” 

 

“You’re the one who fell for a single dad,” Hank points out, trying not to grin like a fool.  

 

“I did,” Connor agrees, giving a muted yelp as Hank tosses him onto the bed. 

 

“Oh, I like that,” he says, leaning up on his elbows. His eyes are wide and dark. Hank swallows hard and closes the door, standing awkwardly in front of the bed.  

 

Now that he’s here, actually has Connor in his room, it’s like he’s forgotten everything about how to have sex. And alright, maybe it has been a while, but surely it’s not something you can actually forget how to do? 

 

Connor seems to have no such reservations about the drastic shift in their relationship. He sits up to tug his Henley off and unfasten his jeans, wriggling out of them. Hank can only watch, wide-eyed, as Connor strips off completely and sprawls out on the pillows all subtle muscle and pale skin littered with freckles. 

 

“Come here,” he says, holding his arms out.  

 

Hank wasn’t even aware he could  _move_  that fast. Like a shot, he’s across he room and on the bed, leaning over Connor so he can yank him down into another eager kiss. It makes his mind go blessedly blank, and he loses himself into their kiss with a soft moan as all of him finally relaxes, Connor’s hands stroking the tension from his shoulders.  

 

He grapples with Hank’s shirt after a long moment of exploring his mouth, trying to get it off him but refusing to stop kissing him. Hank huffs a laugh against his lips and pushes his hands away, pulling back a little to mumble against his mouth.  

 

“It’s a button down, stupid,” he says, hopelessly fond. Connor whines and gives his shirt one last defiant tug before Hank starts unbuttoning it. Once loose Connor shoves it off his shoulders like it’s personally offended him, yanking the tank off before Hank can protest.  

 

“I  _knew_  you had a tattoo!” Connor says gleefully, fingers tracing the faded ink. “I  _knew it.”_ He gives a satisfied hum, stroking his palms down Hank’s chest, hitching one leg up over his hip. He seems utterly fascinated by all the skin now on show and, while the apprehension burns in Hank’s cheeks, they way Connor is downright  _admiring_ him helps to ease the rush of self-consciousness.  

 

“I want you so much,” Connor purrs, winding his hands round Hank’s shoulders. “ _Please_  tell me you have lube.” 

 

“Yeah, I’ve got lube,” Hank says, ignoring Connor’s teasing grin. “You stop that or you can sleep on the couch.” 

 

“I’ll be good,” Connor says, then relents under Hank’s doubtful gaze. “Within reason,” he amends. Hank snorts and reaches into his bedside table for the long disused bottle.  

 

“Is that watermelon flavour?” Connor asks, voice pitching up in amused surprise. Fuck, Hank had forgotten. It’d been a secret Santa gift from Reed, and flavour isn’t really something you pay attention to when you’re just looking to get the job done.  

 

“Alright, go on, to couch with you.” 

 

“Nooo, Hank!” Connor clutches at him. “Look, I’m behaving now. See?” 

 

“Fucking doubtful,” Hank says, but there’s no heat behind it. Well, there is, but not the angry kind. “Do you, uh, have a preference…?” 

 

“Like this,” Connor says at once. “So I can see you.” 

 

Hank’s cheeks burn but he murmurs an agreement and sits back on his feet so Connor can get comfortable.  

 

“Do you want me to—“ 

 

“Yes. Please, Hank.” 

 

Alright, no arguments there.  

 

Hank pours the lube into his palm, slicking his fingers liberally before tossing the bottle onto the bed. He strokes his clean hand gently over Connor’s thigh, an automatic soothing gesture, and carefully slides in his forefinger.  

 

Connor’s reaction is  _unreal._ He arches with a soft gasp, catching his bottom lip between his teeth. His eyes flutter closed and he way his legs fall open his downright  _obscene._ Hank swallows hard, forcing himself to keep his movements slow and careful. He curls his finger gently before drawing it out to the tip and pushing back in again.  

 

“Oh,  _Hank,_ ” Connor moans, breath hitching. “More,  _please_.” 

 

Hank thanks every deity he doesn’t believe in for sending this coltish, goofy man into his life. This man whose every move seems like it is specifically tailored to drive Hank mad with desire and affection.  

 

As soon as he’s able and Connor can take it comfortably, Hank eases in a second finger, twisting them and curling them, thrusting slow and deep and wringing the most perfect of moans from Connor’s lips. He arches and clutches the sheets, flushed all across his cheeks and down his neck. He looks stunning like this.  

 

“God, Hank,” he whines breathlessly, pushing a hand into his hair. “Please, hurry, I want you so much…” 

 

“Shh,” Hank says gently. “Just relax, I’ve got you. You said you’d be good.” 

 

Connor falls silent, Adams apple bobbing hard as he swallows. He’s staring at Hank with those wide, impossibly brown eyes, and Hank wracks his brain to think about what he said that could possibly have elicited that reaction.  

 

Oh.  

 

Well.  

 

He can do that, sure.  

 

“Are you going to be good, Connor?” Hank asks, pitching his voice low. “Are you going to be a good boy for me?” Carefully, slowly, he eases in a third finger as he speaks. 

 

A shiver runs the entire length of Connor’s body and a soft, needy whine slips past his lips. He nods quickly, seemingly unable to actually speak. For once. Hank’s quite proud to be the one to render Connor speechless. Who’d’ve known a praise kink would be the weakness to exploit to shut him up? 

 

That opens up a  _lot_ of intriguing opportunities. 

 

Hank curls his fingers a little more firmly and Connor jolts with a whine. He’s getting impatient, they both are, but part of Hank wants to draw this out endlessly, keep Connor here secluded away, just the two of them. 

 

“Please, Hank,” Connor moans raggedly. “I-I’ll be good, but I  _need_  you...” 

 

Goddamn it. 

 

Hank is dimly aware of his willpower flying out the window, but he honestly couldn’t care less. Not when Connor’s begging for him so desperately like that. He sits back to wriggle out of his own jeans and underwear, tossing them to the floor and moving back to kneel between Connor’s parted thighs. Connor reaches for him but Hank doesn’t surrender immediately. 

 

“Condom?” Hank asks. 

 

Connor wrinkles his nose. “No, thank you.” 

 

Alright, Hank tried. He leans close so he can slip his arms up round his neck and his legs up round his waist.  

 

“Fuck me, Hank,” Connor purrs, tilting his hips up so Hank can sink into him with one, slow movement. 

 

They groan together, Hank’s vision blurring as he sinks into tight, slick heat. Connor’s fingers tighten in his hair and he arches up into him, mouth falling open round the low moan that rushes out of him on an unsteady breath. Hank takes a moment, leaning his forehead against Connor’s and taking a few deep breaths to steady himself. 

 

Once his pulse slows he gives a slow roll of his hips, delighting in the soft whine Connor gives in response. His legs tighten round Hank’s waist, ankles locking together for leverage so he can rock his hips up to meet him. 

 

The pace Hank sets is slow, unhurried, a constant, even rolling of hips that pushes him deep into Connor’s ass and drags the prettiest of moans from his throat. He writhes under Hank like something out of a porno and Hank swears he gets harder just from looking. Connor’s nails dig into his shoulders like little sharp pricks of pleasure and the heat coiling in Hank’s abdomen tries to urge him to move faster. 

 

“ _H-Hank,”_ Connor stutters, panting and flushed all the way down his chest. “Faster, please,  _faster.”_  

 

Hank already knows he can deny this man nothing. He braces his hands on the mattress either side of Conner’s ribs and slowly draws out until just the tip of his cock is inside. With a sharp buck of his hips he buries himself to the hilt, then falls into a hard, rapid rhythm. 

 

Connor pushes his face into Hank’s shoulder to muffle a sharp cry, clutches at him as Hank drives into him relentlessly. He pants and whines and – fuck – bites hard at Hank’s shoulder to keep quiet, but the sudden sharpness is enough to force a loud moan out of Hank’s own mouth. He pulls back, freeing his shoulder from the grip of Connor’s teeth and ducks his head to kiss him hard, panting against his mouth. 

 

Connor clutches him tighter, shuddering beneath him and arching up to rub his cock between their stomachs. His breaths come faster as he gets closer and closer to coming, and as much as Hank dearly wants to watch him lose control, he absolutely has to keep quiet, so he keeps kissing him, until they’re both breathless and doing little more than passing the same breath between open mouths. 

 

And then Connor is coming, his whole body drawing tight, nails scratching deliciously down Hank’s back as pleasure shudders through him. Hank kisses him through it, swallowing the muffled cry against his lips before moving to pepper kisses along Connor’s jaw, softly over his neck. 

 

“Hank,” Connor sighs softly. “I want you to- As well. Please.” 

 

It really doesn’t take much. A few more thrusts and Hank sees stars, shuddering with a low groan as he falls apart, just managing to stop himself from falling onto Connor and crushing him under his weight. Instead he pitches to the side and Connor follows, nuzzling into him like a contented pet, head tucked under Hank’s chin. 

 

“That... Happened,” Hank says when he gets his breath back. He’s pleased it didn’t take as long as he thought it would. Connor gives a satisfied hum that vibrates through his chest. 

 

“Any regrets?” Connor asks, drawing light patterns over Hank’s arm with the tips of his fingers.” 

 

“Fuck no,” Hank says. “Well, yeah, one. Maybe two.” 

 

“Oh?” Connor’s tone wavers with uncertainty, fingers pausing on Hank’s skin. 

 

“Yeah. I’m never gonna be able to eat watermelon again without grinning like an idiot. And I'm pretty sure Nines is actually gonna kill me.” 

 

Connor presses his face into Hank’s chest, the force of their combined laughter shaking the bed. 

 

 

 

 


End file.
